|
|
|
|
|
|
doubt. Poor woman. Perhaps No. It was no affair of his. All that mattered to him was that the king would be pleased. His eyes flicked over the messenger. Even if there was a reply, there was no need to use a dirty worm like that. The king's instructions must be carried by a more worthy instrument. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"There will be no reply," Neville said curtly. "Begone." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Not given to watching the reactions of his inferiors, Neville missed the expression of relief on the messenger's face. His lady had told him not to wait for a reply, but to return to Roselynde for further orders after delivering the packet. He had been troubled by that order. Usually he was told to do what the recipient of the message told him. He had wondered what would become of him if the lord who took the letters bid him stay? Caught between the fire of the lord's wrath if he disobeyed him and the lady's wrath if he disobeyed her, he would have been consumed either way. Now he was free. He bowed again, and backed gratefully out of the chamber. His horse was waiting, and there was a ship in the harbor due to sail for England on the evening tide. He would be on it. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Neville waved a hand as if the motion could dispel the scent of the messenger. Stupid woman, he thought, she deserves Fulk. Why did she not tell the man to clean himself before presenting himself to his betters? The air was redolent of the creature's stench. He rose unhurriedly. Actually, this was as good a time as any to deliver the messages to the king. The odor would be gone by the time he returned. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Entrance to the king's chambers was gained readily, and Neville was well-satisfied at the way John's eyes lit when he named Lady Alinor. John had been somewhat surprised when he received no reply to his letter. He had half expected a long screed pleading for a reversal of his decision or for delay on the grounds of the recentness of her widowhood. He really did not care |
|
|
|
|
|